Beautifully Imperfect
by DarthBubbles
Summary: She infuriated him. Drove him crazy. And he loved it. Craved it. She was so imperfect, and that made her beautiful. Makorra. Rated for mild swearing.


**Oh My Gosh, I love this show so much! *fangirl squeal***

**Moreover, I love these two so much. _SO MUCH_.**

**So to hold me over for the lack of a new episode this weekend, I wrote this little Makorra fic. And watched "The Spirit Of Competition" episode over and over, but that's not relevant...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

There was the familiar coppery taste of blood in Mako's mouth as his own teeth ground down tightly on the inside of his cheek. He only increased the pressure in his jaw, sucking the blood from his self-inflicted injury away from his tongue so that he wouldn't have to worry about the taste any longer. For a long moment, he forced himself to focus only on the taut lock of his jaw- grinding his teeth together, increasing the pain on the inside of his cheek- anything that would pull his attention away from the source of his fury.

But as soon as she crossed his mind, all control was lost, and Mako impulsively balled up his fist, bright orange flames springing to life around his arm.

He took a deep breath. _No, no,_ he chided himself as gently as he could. _Wood house. Lots of trees. Tenzin's inevitable anger if something were to be destroyed._He could go on and on with a list of repercussions should he choose to launch that fireball- which he wanted to do oh-so badly.

_No. No firebending. Firebending is bad._

Then why did it look so good when she did it?

Mako knew the answer to that. It was the same reason waterbending or earthbending looked so artistic, so graceful, so beautiful when she did it. Because she was all the more artistic, graceful, and goddamn beautiful. Korra was amazing, perfect.

The young firebender shook his head._ No, no, no_. She was most definitely _not_ perfect. She was...

Mako searched for a word to pull the Avatar back down to his humble level and to prevent himself from admiring the brunette as much as he had been.

"Infuriating," he said to himself. The word felt good rolling off his tongue, and his lips cracked into a sly smile as he heard the word spoken by his smooth voice. "Hot-headed," he continued, enjoying this destruction of Korra's perfection through simple words spoken. He strode across the wooden floor to the adjacent window, watching the Avatar perform an awe-inspiring combination of water and fire bending. "Impatient. Headstrong. Overconfident. Immature. Charming."

Mako stopped himself, nearly slapping himself across the face. _Charming? Where the hell did that come from_?

He knew the answer to that as well. It came from the same place he had gotten the words artistic, and graceful, and beautiful, and perfect- his heart.

She infuriated him. Drove him crazy. And he loved it. Craved it. He wanted the arguments, if only to see that maddeningly adorable knot between her eyebrows as she became frustrated, or to glimpse that irresistible fire in her ocean-blue eyes as she turned her anger upon him. And to watch her ball up her fists and hear that hiccup in the pitch of her voice when she yelled.

She was so imperfect, and that made her beautiful.

Mako pulled himself up onto the windowsill and leapt lightly onto the ground outside to approach the Avatar. She glanced back, a look of annoyance on her face that sent Mako's heart into a frenzy. "Back already? You here to apologize, or do you wanna piss me off some more?"

"Give me a moment to weigh my options there," he retorted smartly. Korra rolled her eyes.

"Look, unless you have something important to say, I'm training, and you're interrupting." She huffed and placed a hand on her hip.

That set him off again.

"I swear to god you are the most infuriating, irritating, self-centered, hot headed..." he struggled for words, seeing red. Mako forced his jaw to clamp down hard yet again on his inner cheek. He could think of few people who could push him over the edge, and, to his unending frustration, she was one of them.

Korra's arms were crossed. "Go on," she challenged.

"Hot headed...brat!" he finished, for lack of a better word.

There it was, that knot between her eyebrows. Mako's head went spinning. "Well, now that that's off your chest-" a pillar of water rose from the nearby Air Temple fountain and began to move towards the aggravated firebender.

He held up a hand, a movement that Korra at first had interpreted as offensive. She grabbed his arm and yanked him forward defensively. "I'm not done yet," he grunted, remembering the reason he had come down there originally, and what he'd wanted to tell her. "You're also headstrong. And willful. And impossible to deal with. And fiercely loyal. And smart. And talented. And so beautifully imperfect."

A hot blush heated Korra's cheeks as she loosened her hold on his wrist. The pillar of water crashed back down into the fountain, sloshing over the sides. "Mako, I-"

This time it was her turn to be cut off, and Mako quickly and decisively grabbed the brunette by the waist and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips desperately against hers. Korra, shocked only for a moment, closed her eyes, snaking her arms around his neck and adjusting herself to the kiss.

She was so imperfect, and that made her beautiful.


End file.
